


Aren't All Endings Bittersweet?

by Scriptor



Series: Push and Pull [7]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Dom!AJ, M/M, Sappy Ending, Spreader Bars, Sub!Dean, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 12:06:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10616571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scriptor/pseuds/Scriptor
Summary: Takes place soon after Mania. With the "Superstar Shake-up" AJ has to make a decision.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I realize why I don't hardly ever finish anything: it's freaking hard to do! I appreciate y'all reading this for as long as you did and for putting up with the odd series formatting. I foresaw this being more of a vignette type thing but it became more like chapters in the end. With them on different shows now, the muse is gone and I'm just glad I could get this written and finished!

_You were standing/I was there/Two worlds collided/And they could never tear us apart_

INXS – Never Tear Us Apart

 

Dean’s calves felt weak and worked like he just ran 10 miles; his forearms had gone a bit numb too, but he was in complete and total ecstasy. The wrist and ankle spreader bar had him in a knees down, arms back position and AJ had been alternating between assaulting his thighs and ass with the Scottish tawse and edging his cock just to the brink before backing off.  He was blindfolded but upright and happy to be serving AJ in this way. They’d been going like that for a solid hour; this was their Mania celebration. After everything died down – after the signings and the clean up and a quick bite to eat at the greasiest place they could find in the Orlando area – the two had stolen away to the Wyndham and locked themselves away from the chaos of their world.

“Dean, checking in. How we doin’?”

“Good sir…” Dean whispered. His painfully hard cock bobbed on its own, sensitive and overstimulated as AJ trailed the tawse from the base of Dean’s neck, down his spine and around his small waist to just above his crotch. Gently, barely a whisper of a touch, AJ allowed the cool leather to fall over his cock. Dean shuddered and tried to slow his breathing. Not being able to see AJ’s movements heightened the sensation all the more. This was pure torture and pure heaven.

A slight buzzing sound pulled them away for a moment but they ignored it.

“Please daddy, I can’t take much more.”

“Aww but you’re holding out so good for me.” AJ praised.

“Yes sir. But… please.”

“I guess you do deserve a reward. You beat Baron in spectacular fashion and I’m proud of you.”

Dean sat up a little straighter, puffing up his chest.

“Are you ready to cum, Dean?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

AJ helped Dean just to the edge of the bed then got down on his knees, licking a stripe up the underside of Dean’s cock. His chest bore the sheen of sweat and as he let out a ragged breath, AJ knew he was close; really close. Just as he took the entire length into his mouth, the phone vibrated on the night stand again and lit up. AJ eyed it but kept going, taking Dean’s cock as far into his throat as possible, just how he liked it.

The phone kept buzzing and it was evident someone was desperately trying to get ahold of Dean. AJ hopped up and off as he cursed. “Mine, isn’t it?”

“Whoever’s calling you is ruining the moment. I’m ‘bout to kick somebody’s fucking ass.”

“You gonna answer it?” Dean asked, dropping out of scene because it had basically already been blown up.

“I guess I am…” AJ said, resigned. He stalked to the night stand and grabbed the thing, assessing the number first.

“Fuck, it’s someone from Creative.”

AJ answered with a curt ‘Dean’s phone’ and snatched the blindfold off of Dean. As he fired off a series of ‘yeahs’ and ‘uh-huhs’, he unlocked Dean’s wrists first, softly rubbing them as they were freed from the holds. He moved Dean’s arms around front then unlocked his ankles one by one, setting his legs forward then laying Dean on his back.

“Yeah, ok. Just let me know I guess.” Once he hit ‘end’, he sat by Dean and rubbed his hands over his arms, squeezing, getting the blood pumping right again.

“What’d they say?”

With a sigh, “Something about movin’ talent around; just to be aware.”

“Whatever.” Dean said, pulling AJ down into a bruising kiss, a breathless assault that left AJ gasping when they pulled apart. “Come on AJ, finish what you started.” Dean slid his hands down to his cock and gave it a few pumps. AJ was conflicted; his initial reaction was to scold Dean for being too forward – that’s his job. But he was kicking himself for not telling the whole story.

A week prior, he’d been called into Vince’s office and told about the “Superstar Shake Up”; they had plans for him to move to Raw but AJ fought that tooth and nail. He wasn’t ready to leave Smackdown and, given their competitive ratings, felt it would be better if he stayed. After a lengthy back and forth, Vince gave in and that was that. But as AJ walked out of that office, Vince mentioned that Dean was going to end up on Raw… to balance things out. The air left his lungs and he tried his damndest not to let it show but God, how could he do that to them? Granted, Vince had no idea that they were a thing but Dean probably had no idea what was coming either; what a shit show.

Dean kissed AJ like there was no tomorrow; he was so reactive to every little touch of AJ’s hands, everywhere AJ’s lips landed, Dean let it be known how much he approved. And AJ felt like a fucking heel for not telling Dean, but how could he? They had just found their groove and now everything was going to be different. He mentally packed away the pain and the guilt for a minute and proceeded to give Dean the blowjob he deserved.

**

In between the gym and meetings and before the next House Show, AJ managed to slip away and even though he was a grown man, walking into a store that had a front window dressing of a full body latex bondage outfit made him feel uncomfortable. Walking straight past all the totally freaky kink shit, he made his way to the jewelry counter. A chick with pink hair and way too many piercings eyed him like he didn’t belong, popped her gum, and feigned interest as she offered to open the case if he saw anything he liked.

The selection of collars ranged from black and basic to way too frilly and shiny for his tastes. He’d like to think he knew Dean well enough by this point. The guy rarely wore any kind of accessories; sometimes a basic belt buckle and every now and then a small silver chain. AJ perused the selection but his eyes were most drawn to the most simple thing: a thin length of leather, maybe only a quarter of an inch wide, with a silver O in the center. He’d read about the significance of the O in the D/s culture: a reference to the BDSM novel, _The Story of O_ , but most people liked to think the circle represents a concept of complete servitude: no beginning, no end, something without any limits. For his purposes, this would do just fine. Dean could wear it under clothes without it being too noticeable.

“I’d like to look at that one.” He said, pointing. Pink haired girl handed it to him and snapped her gum again.

“Gotta sub for that collar or what?” she asked, rudely.

“Sure do. He’s great.” AJ replied smugly and she rolled her eyes.

“That one comes with a normal clasp or a permanent lock. Whatever you prefer.”

Shit, he didn’t know he had a choice. And this felt like a very big choice to make. Hell, if he was going to collar Dean, he’d better do the right thing. Thinking it over, he made his choice, paid, and went back to his hotel.

 

 **

 

Dean swallowed the last of his Lagavulin and tossed the small bottle onto the nightstand. His head was swimming; a nice little buzz going on. He sat in the dark room, just being nothing. No lights or sounds or people or work. He hadn’t seen AJ in four days and he was worried about him, them. After their last scene – even though interrupted – Dean felt as close to AJ as he ever had. But why then had he been avoiding him? He knew shit was about to go down; people were gonna get traded. He hadn’t been told anything but rumors swarmed that AJ was a goner; he might as well start wearing solely red. Dean felt like punching something or someone; he felt destructive and empty. He needed AJ; needed the punishment, the pain, the surrender. Alcohol only faded the gnawing need coursing through him, but not enough, it was never enough. Fuck it, he was gonna text him.

Dean: _Where are you?_

When no answer came through after an eternal five minutes, Dean stumbled around to the mini-fridge and opened a bottle of whatever basic shit they had stocked it with. Rum? Gross. Did he drink it anyway? Hell yeah. Liquor is liquor. He chugged two more mini bottles and crawled back on the bed, waiting for his brain to feel right; for the emptiness to subside, if even just a little.

AJ: _I had to get something. Can you meet me tomorrow?_

Dean: _I guess._

AJ: _I’ll call you in the morning._

That wasn’t good enough for Dean; he felt like he was drowning but he didn’t know why. He just knew that the uncertainty was eating his brain.

Dean: _Can’t I see you tonight?_

Dean: _I need you…_

AJ: _Let me finish up something; I’ll be there._

It was a long thirty minutes and Dean went through every possible scenario: AJ’s with another person; I fucked up. AJ is getting traded to Raw and he won’t tell me. AJ isn’t as invested in this relationship as I am. When you’re drunk and have time to think, the wheels start to fall off of your reality. By the time he heard the soft knock at the door, Dean was incensed, seething.

“Hey baby,” AJ greeted but Dean lunged at him, grabbing AJ by the shirt and ramming him up against the door.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on but you’d better tell me right now. Why have I not heard from you?”

“Dean, put me down.” AJ said calmly.

“No, you tell me right this fucking second. I’m losing my mind over here.”

AJ walked away from him, placed a bag on the side table, and sat in the corner chair. He steepled his fingers, crossed his leg over his knee and pegged Dean with the most ominous glare imaginable. Dean felt like punching a wall… or AJ’s face. He didn’t know which one would hurt more.

He approached AJ, towering over him, and in a split second decision, slapped AJ right across the cheek. Shock. Utter shock flashed across AJ’s face and immediately, Dean regretted it, dropping to his knees and hanging his head, muttering,

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I… I’m sorry, AJ.”

Dean knew he’d fucked up and would be punished but it felt right. He deserved it and looked forward to the pain that scrubbed away all the shitty feeling in his brain and replaced it was nothing but pleasure.

“You’re an insolent brat, Dean, and you know what happens when you talk to me that way.”

“Yes sir.” Dean was always amazed at how quickly he could go from nice guy AJ to Dom AJ; how his voice changed, got deeper, serious.

“No, ‘sir’ ain’t gonna cut it tonight.” AJ gripped Dean’s shirt and pulled him up slightly then batted his head, the way they do in the ring, though harder than Dean anticipated so he flinched.

“Yeah, try that again. Yes what?”

“Yes… AJ?”

“Again!” and AJ hit him, this time, a similar slap that Dean had delivered to him. Dean’s face stung and his brain scrambled for the answer.

“Yes… master.”

“There it is. Now, strip and get on the bed for your punishment.”

Dean was eager for it and in no time, had assumed the position. AJ’s stare scared the shit outta him too; there was something different behind those blue eyes tonight and although Dean believed he wouldn’t hurt him, he was a little worried.

“Head down, ass up.” AJ demanded. Dean complied and then the rain of slaps began. AJ was kind enough to alternate sides but he used every ounce of strength and as the bloom of pain and heat grew, Dean’s eye pricked with tears but he was absolved of his transgressions. His head swam; he floated. He was free.

AJ landed thirty good ones on Dean then eased him down onto his belly, grabbing the arnica they always kept on hand. AJ’s deft hands worked the cream into Dean’s tortured flesh and he relaxed – finally – letting everything fall away.

“I should apologize. There was a lot of anger behind that session and I have no good reason to take my shit out on you.” AJ admitted quietly.

“I guess I could say the same.” Dean turned his head to see him better and had a moment where he realized that he never wanted to stop seeing his face. “I know it’s going down with the roster changes and the uncertainty is killing me.”

“About that…” AJ began. “I know what’s going on. I’m staying… you’re going to Monday.”

Dean shifted to his side. “No, no that can’t be.”

“I know, baby, but it’s true. I met with Vince and he told me. I wanted to fight to keep you but then I was afraid they’d find out. Or hell, use it against us. You know how things go.”

Dean’s eyes were red already and it wasn’t from being beaten.

A long silence sat between them; they looked at each other and away then back, searching each other’s faces for an answer that really could not or would not present itself. What was there, really? Dean felt like a void had opened up inside his body; he felt it eating away at his soul and couldn’t conjure up a single word.

“Look, I originally thought they were gonna send me to Raw anyway and in the event we were split up, I got you something.” AJ stood and went to the bag he’d brought in with him, pulling out a small brown leather satchel with drawstrings.

“I have no idea how you’re going to react to this but…” AJ began, pulling out the necklace. “I got you this. A collar, you know. Actually, I bought two. One has a normal clasp and the other…” he pulled it out. Dean saw that it was the kind you put on and never took off. His heart fucking soared at the idea.

“Yeah, a permanent lock. The kind you have to break to get off.” Dean said, eyes locked onto the jewelry.

“I thought if I was gonna give you this promise, you could meet me halfway and have the choice of which one you wanted.” AJ said, his blue eyes landing on Dean’s, hoping.

Dean knew he wasn’t going to think twice about it but in order for his answer to come out without choking on his tears, he swallowed and composed himself, making AJ’s wait all the longer.

“Give me the permanent one… sir.”

AJ let out a huge sigh of relief and reached around Dean’s neck, affixing it to him and leaning back to admire it. The black leather was everything Dean wanted and never knew it until that very moment.

“You don’t know how happy this makes me.” AJ said. “I know we’ll be on different shows now but you’re mine. I own you and I never want to let you go.”

Dean slumped and fell into AJ’s arms. He was worried about the future, with different travel schedules and their lives being fractured, but he knew one thing: AJ would be the one constant he could count on.

 

 


End file.
